


Obviously

by berryfuls



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Volume 1-3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 18:24:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15563769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berryfuls/pseuds/berryfuls
Summary: “We all hope we end up marrying our soulmates, but in the end, all that matters is that the other person is alive, happy, and healthy. Maybe the point is to show us that we have a purpose and at least one person who cares about us at the end of the day. Someone who shares a connection so deep that your souls hum at the same frequency.” Reimagined Arkos as soulmates through the Fall of Beacon.





	Obviously

“Nice to meet you, Jaune.”

What useless soul words. What, is everyone who greets him supposed to be his soulmate? How is he ever going to narrow that down?

From the age that he learned what the tiny words meant, he’d been frustrated. What if he had already met his soulmate and hadn’t known? Of course, grade school was easy. Most of the girls avoided him like the plague, and the ones who did sink to his level usually weren’t so polite. He might as well have nothing written on the inside of his left forearm. No words at all would be just as helpful as a kind greeting from literally anybody.

So eventually he stopped thinking about it.

The thought crosses his mind every once in awhile, such as when his unusually young guidance counselor had said hello and introduced herself, the words pinging around in his head. He kept his eyes trained on her reaction as he responded, but she stayed coolly polite. Later, as she was filling out paperwork, he saw her soul words, dark against her skin, _“So you’re Lacey’s lesbian friend.”_ He also spotted a wedding photo on the shelf behind her, of two brides kissing at an altar. After that encounter, he didn’t pay much attention when he heard the words.

Instead, he turned to trying to be a ladies’ man. He attempts to woo anything that breathes, coming on too strong every time. He’s lost count of how many times he’s been rejected, but it doesn’t really matter. He’s just biding his time, waiting for his queen.

She’ll react if she hears his response. Things will work out.

—

“Have you seen the ice queen?”

Pyrrha traces the words on her skin almost constantly, either while staring at them in the mirror or discreetly over her shirt where the words sit along the dip of her waist. She’s thought out a thousand different scenarios in which her soulmate would be uttering those words to her. Were they talking about a show named The Ice Queen? Or was there a comma missing, and her soulmate was really asking her about seeing some ice and referring to her as a queen?

The darker scenarios plague her mind at night when she can’t sleep. By now, she had built up this fantasy of her soulmate (who is usually masculine, but she tries to keep an open mind. She’s known a few soulmates whose other halves were not the gender they had anticipated, and they’re all happy.) The nightmares have her watching this beautiful person falling in love with - a figure skater? An ice carver?

She’s forced to watch them share their first kiss, get married, have gorgeous children, grow old together. All the things she wants with her soulmate. Her heart breaks every time, in a sadly fond way. She’s happy to see her soulmate happy, even if it causes her so much heartache.

And maybe that’s why she wants to be a huntress. If she can romanticize and dull the pain of losing a person she has never met, then all the hard work, injuries, and sacrifices she will have to make as a huntress will be easy. Manageable. Simple.

But she doesn’t give up faith. Her soulmate will love her, at least in some capacity. She just has to meet them first.

—

First day at Beacon. Jaune had spent the summer working, doing odd jobs around town for some spare money. Slipping back into his armor for the first time in months feels like a relief, like he’s finally pulling on his true self. He takes a couple minutes to check himself out in the mirror. Today could be the day, and he doesn’t want to make a bad first impression.

Then he spends the entire ride to Beacon puking, so there goes any chance of a good first impression.

The rest of his classmates file inside for the welcome luncheon, but he takes a moment to sit on the ground and breathe. He knows that he’s prone to motion sickness, but he’s never had it this bad before, so he figures he should probably take it easy for a couple minutes.

As he’s sitting there, he notices a stunningly gorgeous girl with long white hair speaking with a couple men who appear to be her porters. Her blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight and her light blue dress sways gently in the breeze. The men start wheeling away her suitcases, leaving her by herself for a moment.

Jaune scrambles to his feet, because, you know, girl, and he begins his cool-but-not-too-cool saunter over to her.

“What’s cooking, good looki-” he starts, but he’s cut off by a large ice block suddenly surrounding his body and freezing him in place.

“Don’t even,” the girl responds, and she continues inside.

“Need some help?”

Jaune turns his head as much as he can to see a young girl with dark red hair, peering up at him with a smirk. “Maybe, a little,” he concedes, because he is kind of trapped inside a block of ice.

She giggles, but then pulls out a massive scythe. “Hold still,” she says in response to the panicked look in his eye. In a flash, (that goes by faster when he shuts his eyes and braces for death) she has sliced off a side of the block, allowing him to gingerly slide himself out.

“Thanks for that,” he says, taking a moment to make sure his sword and shield weren’t damaged from the cold.

The girl grins, folding the scythe back up and putting it away.“No problem! What was her deal, anyway?”

Jaune grimaces. “She probably knew I was coming over to hit on her.” When she furrows her brow in confusion, he continues, “My soul words are remarkably vague, so I tend to ignore them, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

She laughs. “I totally understand. I’m kind of in the same boat,” she says, holding out her arm so he can see the “Salutations!” written there. “Like, who even says that anymore?”

“At least you’ll know when you hear it,” he responds. “I’ve heard mine countless times in my life already, and I don’t think I’m any closer to meeting my soulmate.”

She nods, and they’re quiet for a moment. Finally, she says, “Well, my sister is waiting for me. Oh! I’m Ruby, by the way.”

“Jaune.”

She smiles. “I hope to see you around, Jaune!” and then she’s bouncing off, back to the festivities.

—

It’s very unsettling, knowing none of these people. There are a few who have recognized Pyrrha from the Pumpkin Pete box and asked for her autograph, but none have stuck around long enough for her to strike up a conversation.

She finds herself sitting alone at the luncheon, but it’s not completely lonely. She’s used to being the celebrity. It means not having lots of friends, but she’s gotten used to that. After today, she’ll have teammates who she’ll be friends with, right?

“You look like you could use some company,” a girl says as she plops down beside her. “I’m Yang!”

Pyrrha smiles, polite and welcoming. “I’m Pyrrha. It’s nice to meet you.”

“So what’s a pretty girl like you doing all by herself?” Yang asks, taking a bite out of a piece of bread.

Pyrrha smiles at the compliment. “Just tired of mingling, I guess. It’s been a long day.”

Yang nods, understanding. “I can leave you to be alone, if you’d like,” she offers, not unkindly. Hearing her issue and simply offering to help.

“That’s alright. I don’t mind the company,” Pyrrha says, turning back to her barely-eaten lunch. The two of them eat in amicable silence for a few moments, before Yang pipes back up.

“Okay, so what’s the coolest weapon you’ve seen so far? My favorite is that one.” She nods over at someone at another table, and Pyrrha has to admit their weapon is pretty cool.

She decides to play along. “That one over there looks like it would be particularly useful,” she says, directing Yang’s attention to another table. Yang nods appreciatively.

A small girl approaches and drops onto the seat across from Yang. “Ruby! You made it!” Yang exclaims, turning to Pyrrha with a grin. “Pyrrha, baby sister Ruby. Baby sister Ruby, Pyrrha.”

“Hello, Ruby,” Pyrrha says.

“Hi, guys. Do you know if they have cookies?” Ruby asks immediately. Yang points out the dessert table, and faster than Pyrrha thinks is humanly possible, the girl is back with a plateful of chocolate chip cookies and is tucking into the sugary treats.

“Don’t you think you should have some real food?” Yang asks, a motherly edge in her voice.

“Don’t you think you should get off my back and stop acting like Dad?” Ruby quips, and she smugly takes another bite of cookie. Yang good-naturedly rolls her eyes, and despite the familial-level bond between the two, Pyrrha doesn’t feel out of place or uncomfortable. It feels like she’s witnessed the two sisters bicker all her life.

“Yo, Ruby!” a boy across the hall calls, jogging over to the table.

She stands to greet him. “Hey, Jaune! Jaune, this is my sister, Yang, and this is Pyrrha,” she says, pointing to each girl in turn.

“Hey, you’re the guy who threw up on the ship!” Yang exclaims a little too loudly, earning a few disgusted looks from other lunch-goers.

Hoping to cover the faux pas, Pyrrha turns to Jaune with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Jaune.”

The phrase earns her a weird look, and she briefly wonders if she had said something wrong. Before she can dwell on it too much, he turns back to the table at large and asks, “Have you seen the ice queen?”

The question sends a jolt down Pyrrha’s spine and leaves a pang in her stomach. _Oh. It’s him. Oh my goodness. It’s him! I’ve finally met my soulmate!!!_

But Ruby is already moving the conversation, explaining who the ice queen is and telling Jaune that they haven’t seen her. He nods and just as Pyrrha remembers to breathe, he’s jogging away, in search of the apparently illusive ice queen.

Yang looks at Pyrrha with an arched eyebrow. “Is everything okay?” she asks. And Pyrrha will never quite be able to explain why she replies, smiling, “Yeah, nothing out of the ordinary.” _Maybe it’s not him…_ And she turns back to her lunch and remains silent the rest of the meal.

—

There’s another example of a girl, saying his soul words, and not being his soulmate. This is why he doesn’t bother with it any more. She hadn’t responded in any sort of way that he had noticed.

He has to say, he is a little disappointed. Pyrrha was beautiful, in a way that he wouldn’t have even known what to do with if she had been his soulmate. Her long red hair, probably silky to the touch and smelling like flowers and home. Her piercing green eyes, that had somehow made him feel safe and vulnerable at the same time. The gold piece around her neck, drawing the eye to her exposed skin, along her shoulders and down her chest, the way that she retained grace and class despite how low her shirt was.

Yes, he is attracted to Pyrrha. Obviously. And maybe in the future, he’ll try his luck with her like he’s planning on trying his luck with the ice queen a few more times.

She isn’t his soulmate but he’d learn how to make peace with that. If his future wife is half as beautiful, he’ll be an extremely lucky man.

And both of them try not to think about the encounter too much. The next day, they are selected to work as partners. They, along with a partnership of a short, pink-haired girl named Nora and a tall, quiet boy named Ren, form Team JNPR. Ruby and ice queen, whose name is really Weiss, get paired up and make Team RWBY with Yang and a mysterious girl named Blake. The two teams form a fast friendship, and Jaune even learns to back off from Weiss after being frozen in countless more blocks of ice.

It works for all involved. Except when it doesn’t.

—

It’s a casual Friday night, and Team JNPR is splayed out on Team RWBY’s carpet, with the girls sitting around them.

“You guys are so lucky,” Ruby is saying, skating her fingers idly over her folded up scythe. “How did you manage to pass Oobleck’s exam? It was impossible!”

“We studied and didn’t bake cookies all night,” Weiss responds automatically, not even looking up from flicking through her scroll.

Ruby huffs. “Still not fair.” She slumps, her back against the bed and her legs stretched out in front of her.

Yang grins at Ruby from where she’s laying with her head in Blake’s lap. “It’s fine, little sis! You’ll ace the next one. Just make sure to bunker down in the library with us!” she encourages as Blake slides a hand through Yang’s hair.

“Weiss, what are you doing on your scroll?” Nora asks, changing the subject. She’s snacking on the huge bowl of popcorn that sits in the middle of the circle, the one that nobody has dared challenge her for.

Weiss glances up at Nora and then back to her scroll. “I found this app where you can put in your soul words and then it brings up people who might be your soulmate. So far, I don’t think any of these are mine, but there’s a few thousand to get through.” She flicks past another.

Jaune is laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and he rolls his eyes. “I don’t see the point in soulmates anymore.”

Yang sits up and cocks her head at him. “You don’t mean that, do you?” she asks.

“Of course I mean it. We all have some words embedded in our skin that may or may not be spoken to us at some point in our lives, and then we’re just supposed to fall in love with them and live happily ever after?” He rolls onto his stomach so he could see his friends. “And what if you miss them by accident so you end up alone?”

“That’s extremely rare-” Blake starts to say.

But Jaune cuts her off. “So is having two soulmates, but here you are.”

She looks down at her hands. It’s true. Yang and Blake had figured out early on that they shared each other’s soul words, but Blake had a second set of words, curling around her left ankle, that read, _“I knew you’d look better without the bow.”_ Yang took it well, shrugging and saying that if this person is her soulmate’s soulmate, then she’d be happy to have them both. So when they met the handsome, charming Sun Wukong and it was revealed that he was the allusive third soulmate, they had set him down and they explained the situation. As expected, he had been all for it, just wanting Blake to be happy. If it’s him, or Yang, or him _and_ Yang, whatever, as long as that smile never leaves her face.

Yang’s eyes threaten to burst into a dangerous shade of red at the barely veiled attack, so Blake rests a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. “You’re right, Jaune,” she says evenly. “It is incredibly rare. But the possibility of me having two soulmates and you never meeting or missing yours is practically zero.”

He sighs, resting his chin on his hand as he stares at the carpet in front of him. “I guess I just thought it’d happen by now.”

“There’s no correct time for it to happen,” Ren says. “Nora and I met when we were children, but the median age is surprisingly well above us still.”

“As long as the words are still there, you’ve still got a chance,” Ruby adds. The group falls silent for a moment. Due to the nature of the soul words being connected to aura, once the aura of one person is gone and they die, their soulmate’s words are also erased from their skin. They fade away like the darkness of a slain Ursa. Philosophers have called this the most cruel aspect of the words: losing your soulmate means losing a part of yourself as well.

Jaune pushes his sleeve up far enough that he could spot the words. “Still there. _Nice to meet you, Jaune.”_

“Hey, Pyrrha, where are your soul words?” Ruby asks, making the redhead jump.

Honestly, Pyrrha had been happy to be forgotten amid this conversation of soulmates. Her own teammates have never even seen the words, let alone tried to decipher their meaning. But hearing Jaune’s own words…. hearing them from her mouth, in her voice, from her perfect memory. It’s too much and she wants nothing more than to sink through the floor at this moment.

“Oh! Um, it’s just-” she starts to say.

Nora is at her side in a heartbeat. “You have soul words and never even told us?! I thought you lost your lover in some… freak boating accident!”

“I assumed you never had them to begin with,” Ren replies. “Asexuality and aromanticism are both valid in the eyes of the soul words.”

Pyrrha lets out an uncomfortable laugh. “I have them, they’re just… they’re in a place I don’t feel I should show everybody?” It’s a lie, but it’s an easy way out.

Yang smirks. “Pyrrha with some sexy soul words! Nice.”

Nora is still in her face, and she says, just loud enough that only Pyrrha (and Blake, with her Faunus hearing) can hear, “You’re so showing me later.”

Pyrrha ducks away. The conversation moves on as the group starts to decide what movie they want to watch tonight. Pyrrha draws her knees to her chest and hugs her legs.

As the others huddle around the movie pile, Jaune crawls over so he’s sitting next to her. “Did they push too far?” he asks in a soft whisper.

Pyrrha shakes her head, almost too fast. “No, everything is fine.”

“Then why are you acting weird?” he asks, not unkindly.

She shakes her head again. “Probably just tired. I think I might turn in early.” She rises, at a speed that would have made her clumsy if she was anyone else, spreads her excuse, bids goodnight, and slips out. She gets ready for bed at lightning speed, and slips under the covers, back to the door, in case Nora comes looking to see her words. She’ll fake being asleep if she has to.

Up until now, Pyrrha had believed that maybe there was some fluke. Maybe Jaune was her soulmate, but she wasn’t his? Or was she supposed to be hearing about Weiss or some other ice queen more than once in her life? As often as the topic of the words come up, she had never known Jaune’s, had never known how to initiate that conversation. But she had been so wrapped up in hearing _him_ that day that she hadn’t even remembered what she had said to him. Until now. Until learning those words and remembering them coming out of her mouth.

But Jaune… Jaune said himself that he doesn’t believe in soulmates anymore. Does that mean he never wants to find his? _If I tell him that I think we’re soulmates, she thinks, will he turn away from me? Never want to speak to me anymore?_

In the depths of her mind, she knows she’s being irrational. She knows that Jaune cares about her. But she can’t bring herself to ever dare to risk the friendship, despite knowing how cliched it sounds. She’s never had a real _friend_ , no one who treats her quite like Jaune does. He treats her like a human being, not a legend, or a celebrity, or someone better than them. He treats her like Pyrrha, his partner in battle, his teammate, his friend.

Tears start to spring to her eyes at the thought of ever losing him. Even if it means losing her soulmate, her aura-given true love, the thought of not being in his life hurts even worse.

So she swallows down the long forming crush. Starting tomorrow, she’ll wear makeup over the words to prevent someone from ever accidentally seeing them. She’ll tell people that her soul words are hidden on her body, and she’s not comfortable with them seeing them. Honestly, it’s a miracle no one has seen hers yet, but from now on, she’ll be careful.

She will not lose Jaune Arc’s friendship.

—

Yang is working on setting up the movie while Ren and Weiss set up blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the screen. As Nora leaves to go make more popcorn, Jaune settles in beside Ruby.

“Do you think Pyrrha was acting weird about all that soulmate stuff?” he asks, keeping his voice low.

Ruby shrugs. “Maybe she’s just not comfortable with that stuff. Gotta respect boundaries, Jaune.”

“I guess,” he says, glancing towards the door. “Do you think I should go check on her?”

As he’s saying this, Nora is returning with the popcorn and some surprise cookies for Ruby, who immediately forgets the conversation and is practically on top of the plate of chocolatey goodness within the second.

He decides he’s just overreacting. Since giving up on Weiss, he had grown to have quite a soft spot for Pyrrha. It freaks him out every time he remembers her speaking the soul words written on his arm. For the life of him, whenever he tries to remember that day, he can’t remember what he had said to her. They had never discussed their own soul words with each other, so he has no idea what she has written on her body. Did she know they were soulmates and was too scared to say something? Does she have someone else’s words?

Even if she had never said the words on his arm, he thinks he would still have feelings for her. She’s smart, talented, friendly, and caring, and she’s just as beautiful, if not more, than the day they met.

Yeah, maybe he’s just reading too far into her emotions. Maybe she really was just tired. So he grabs a handful of popcorn, settles back, and watches the movie.

—

“Are you ready for the Vytal festival?” Yang asks a few months later, laying on her stomach on Nora’s bed and watching Pyrrha remove her armor.

Pyrrha smiles back at her friend. “As ready as I’ll ever be. The team has been training hard, and I believe we have a chance to do very well.”

Yang laughs. “Well, hopefully we don’t end up fighting each other at any point in the festival.”

Their teammates had exams tonight, leaving the two girls otherwise alone for a few hours. They had decided to go off campus to a cafe they both loved but could never convince the rest of their friends to go to. Pyrrha had had a particularly difficult sparring session against one of the CRDN boys and had wanted to change into less sweaty clothes before their outing.

“Hey, mind if I charge my scroll for a couple minutes before we head out?” Yang asks, rolling into a sitting position.

“Sure, the charger is on my desk,” Pyrrha says, nodding towards the location. She takes this moment to turn her back to Yang as she removes her shirt and pulls on a plain tank top.

“What’s that?” Yang asks, making Pyrrha pull her shirt down faster.

_Oh no._ She remembers that she had run out of time this morning and hadn’t covered her soul words. “What’s what?” Pyrrha asks, masking her panic with unknowing.

Yang smirks. “Your soul words?” She points to her waist, the same place where the words sit on Pyrrha’s body.

Pyrrha swallows. “Oh, um-”

“Can I see them?” Sensing Pyrrha’s worry, she adds, “I promise I won’t tell anybody.”

Pyrrha starts to say no, but feels guilty. She remembers how Yang took the time to sit and talk with her at that first day luncheon, how sensitive Yang had been that day. She nervously raises the hem of her shirt so Yang can read the script along her waist.

“ _‘Have you seen the ice queen?’_ Is that referencing-” Yang starts to say, but stops abruptly, remembering why that sounds familiar, with a small gasp. “Pyrrha.”

Pyrrha collapses back onto her bed and stares up at the ceiling. “I know.”

“Does he have your words?”

“Yes.”

“Does he know?”

“No. At least… I don’t think so.”

Yang sits next to her and rubs her arm comfortingly. “I’m sorry. I know this isn't easy.”

“I just want him to be happy,” she says. “But I’m scared that if I tell him we’re soulmates, he won't want me.”

“He’d be ridiculous not to want you. I mean, look at you.” Pyrrha shoots her a look and Yang smiles. “You know, you don't have to be romantically involved with your soulmate.” She looks down at her lap. “Y’know, Blake and I gave it a shot, and we decided we should be just friends. She’s still my soulmate, and I still love her with all my heart, but not every soul pair ends up married and madly in love.”

“Then what’s the point?”

She thinks for a moment. “I don't know,” she says honestly. “We all hope we end up marrying our soulmates, but in the end, all that matters is that the other person is alive, happy, and healthy. Maybe the point is to show us that we have a purpose and at least one person who cares about us at the end of the day. Someone who shares a connection so deep that your souls hum at the same frequency.”

She’s right. Just because she and Jaune share the first words they had ever spoken to one another written on their bodies, it’s no guarantee that a romance will work out between them. It’s no guarantee of compatibility. While her heart hurts as she tries to let go of her own feelings for Jaune, she knows what he deserves is someone who could consistently be there for him, to raise his children and kiss him when he got home. Not someone on the cusp of being Remnant’s next top huntress, away on missions every other week and never seeing him. 

Maybe simply dating while still at Beacon would work, maybe it wouldn’t. But spending the rest of their lives together? It just isn’t feasible. That’s what convinces her that Yang’s right.

Blinking back tears, Pyrrha smiles. “Thank you.”

“By the way, don’t forget that I’m still available.” She stands with a wink. “Now come on, let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

—

Pyrrha has been acting strange.

Things were fantastic going into the Vytal festival. The team did great, and they managed to win the first match and continue in the tournament. Then, all of a sudden, she became withdrawn and only half-heartedly herself. And Jaune has no idea what to do.

Nora and Ren left an hour ago for a date night, leaving Jaune to play a game on his scroll as Pyrrha slaved over an essay due in three weeks. He assumes that she wants to get a headstart on schoolwork in the hopes that she’ll make it pretty far in the tournament. It’s honorable, sure, but Jaune has the sneaking suspicion that if Pyrrha Nikos needed an extension on a paper because she was too busy bringing glory to Beacon, even the toughest professor would find it hard to say no.

Nonetheless, he finds himself glancing up from his scroll every now and then to watch her. She’s already in her pajamas, with her long, red hair loose around her shoulders. He can only see her back from here, but he can see the way her head moves thoughtfully as she writes. Not for the first time, he’s fascinated by the girl that is Pyrrha Nikos. He wonders if the day will ever come when he’ll stop feeling this way. A tiny part of him hopes it never does.

With a contented sigh, she gently closes the lid of her computer and stretches.

“Finish Professor Port’s paper?” he asks.

She nearly jumps three feet in the air at the sound of his voice. “Jaune! You startled me. I thought you left earlier with Ren and Nora,” she says, formal and kind as always.

He shakes his head. “No, and sorry for scaring you. Probably shouldn't have sat here quietly for so long.”

She nods. “Well, um, I think I might go to the libr-” She’s already turning away, collecting books and paper in a rush.

“Wait, Pyrrha?” She pauses slightly, her hands still moving as if to continue stuffing her backpack. “How about we go get a late night snack?”

“Oh, that’s quite alright,” she says with a smile that doesn’t quite light up her face the way he knows it should. “I’m sure you have plans, I’ll get out of your hair-”

“No plans. Besides, you’re my partner. You’ve been so tense lately, and you’ve already done all the homework for next month. Why not take a night off?”

She bites her lip. “Jaune, can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Here, come sit,” he says, patting the space next to where he’s sitting on his bed with his back against his pillows.

She hesitates before she sits gingerly on the very edge of the bed, so her hip is just barely touching the fabric. She looks uncomfortable. But before he can question it, she looks down at her hands and asks, “Do you believe in destiny?”

He blinks. He’s not sure what he had been expecting, but it’s not this. “What do you mean?”

She glances up to meet his gaze, steeling herself. “I know you don’t believe in the soul words, but what about everything else? What about the idea of what you’re supposed to be, what you’re supposed to do?”

He looks at her for a moment. “Pyrrha, I think you’re just stressed about-”

“Please, Jaune?”

He nods, then swallows and looks down at his hands. “I don’t believe in the soul words because I’m jaded about them. I’ve seen them work for countless couples, but I’ve heard mine so many times without it being real, it’s hard to maintain hope.” She flinches at that, but he doesn’t notice. “But I do believe that I’m meant to fight Grimm and to protect people, which is why I lied to get into Beacon.” Finally, he looks up at her and smiles gently. “And I believe that you’re meant to be a great huntress one day, one I’ll be proud to tell people I know.”

She blushes and _does she think I’m just saying that?_ “So you believe in what you have proof of?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe. What makes you ask?”

“Oh, um-”

“I can tell you’ve been distracted lately.” He reaches out and covers her hand with his, and he knows it’s not romantic, he’s just being a good friend, this doesn’t mean _anything_. “I care about you, Pyrrha, and I want to be there for you.”

She curls her hand into a fist beneath his before pulling it back into her lap. “I don’t know what to do.” It’s quiet for a moment. “I am…. at a crossroads. A crossroads of who I thought I was supposed to be and who I am now expected to become. And I’m scared that I’m going to lose who I am in the process.”

“Pyrrha, you’re not making any sense.” He reaches out for her again, but this time she stands and takes a step back.

“I know, and I’m scared, and it feels like in order to fulfill my destiny, I’m going to lose everything.” She takes another step back, crossing her arms and moving until she bumps into the edge of her desk.

“Your friends will always be there for you, and you’re never going to lose me,” he says earnestly, standing to follow.

She holds a hand out, silently begging him for space. When he stops, she runs that hand through her hair. “I wish I could deserve you,” she whispers, so quiet he's barely sure he heard her correctly.

“What? What do you mean?”

She shakes her head, whipping back around and stuffing the rest of her things in her bag. “I need to go.”

“Pyrrha-”

She’s packed and at the door before he can finish protesting. “I’m sorry, I just… I really need some space.” She closes the door firmly behind her and she’s gone before he can stop her.

_That was bizarre, right?_ he thinks, sinking back down onto his bed. He figures he’ll try talking to her again when she’s calmed down, had a little space. Try to figure out what _“I wish I could deserve you”_ means.

She needs a friend, an anchor, someone who can keep her grounded during this emotional and chaotic time in her life. _I am the perfect person to do that for her,_ he realizes. _I know her inside and out, I know I can help._

And if she won’t talk to him about what was wrong, that’d be okay. He decides if it’s not his job to be her confidante, it is his job to cheer her up.

He sends a quick message to Nora and Ren, telling them of his plan and asking for supplies, and gets to work turning the room into the headquarters of Pyrrha Nikos fandom.

—

The woman in the tower is going to get away. She’s going to get away and hurt so many people.

Pyrrha barely recognizes that Jaune’s behind her, trying to call someone, anyone, who can come help. It doesn’t matter.

“Jaune, get back to the others,” she says firmly. She briefly checks her scroll to get a sense of how much aura she has - she’s lost a bit, but she’ll have enough.

“What? No, not without you-”

“Please go.” She still hasn’t turned to look at him, instead peering up to the top of the tower.

“Pyrrha, I’m not leaving without you.”

“I don’t have a choice. This is my destiny.” She takes a step forward, but is pulled back when Jaune reaches out and grabs her hand.

“Your destiny is not to _die_ , Pyrrha!” He tugs on her hand as a plea for her to turn and look at him. When she meets his eyes, he continues, “Your destiny is to save the world, and you can’t do that if you’re dead!”

She slips her hand out of his grasp and up his arm, where she runs her thumb gently over the inside of his forearm. “Would you give your soulmate anything they asked for?”

He blinks at the sudden change of topic. “What? What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she mutters softly. Before he can ask more questions, she’s stepping forward, gently resting her hands on the sides of his face, and pressing her lips against his.

The kiss is everything she had daydreamed and somehow more. He radiates warmth through his armor, and he feels like _home_. It takes him a moment to get past the shock, but then he’s kissing her back, his hands settling on the dip of her waist. It’s a plea, a promise, and it fills her with the softest butterflies.

In that moment, she can see herself going back with him. The tower falls and Cinder gets away with the Fall Maiden’s power, but she and Jaune and all their friends escape. She goes with Jaune back to his family home, they sit outside on a bench and giggle at how dumb they’d been, taking so long to realize they were meant to be together forever, as each other’s soulmate. Then, years later, she walks down a flower-littered aisle, towards a crying Nora, a beaming Yang, and an excited Ruby, all in matching dresses. She doesn’t even see them, because all she can see is Jaune, with tears in his eyes, seeing her in a beautiful, long, white gown. And after that, she’s peering down at a tiny face, with flaming red hair and big blue eyes. They grow old together on a front porch with rocking chairs, holding hands and reading to their grandchildren.

But then she sees each of these events, each beautiful, tender moment of a life she could live with Jaune, be torn apart by Ursas and Maidens and all the lives lost in this neverending war, so she gently pulls away and looks into his eyes. He breathes in to say something, and she engages her semblance, pushing him back into a locker she had noticed a few feet behind him. He’s pleading with her again but she doesn’t hear him. She’s punching in coordinates on auto-pilot.

Then he’s gone. She glances at her scroll to note that she had full aura once again, and turns to walk into the tower.

—

Jaune tumbles out of the locker onto the street, the grief and shock already numbing him to the pain. _I have to save her,_ he thinks, he repeats over and over in his mind until it’s a mantra that silences any other thought. He somehow thinks to pull out his scroll and call Weiss.

“Jaune?” she answers, panic clear in her high voice. “Where are you?”

“You have to save her.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. It doesn’t even occur to him how unhelpful that is in this moment. All he can think of is his own desperation to save her, the phantom press of her lips against his, nothing but _Pyrrha_.

“Who? Jaune, what’s going on-”

“Pyrrha! She went after the woman in the tower. Weiss, please,” he begs. “You have to save Pyrrha.”

She seems to sense how much he needs this, how much he needs Pyrrha to be okay, because she says, “We’ll do our best.”

The words barely register. He knows it’s useless because _he_ is useless, there’s nothing he can do except put his faith in better huntsmen and huntresses, but the only person who could save Pyrrha now is Pyrrha herself. He throws his scroll across the street and lets out a hellish scream, trying to get himself out of this numbness. It’d be better to feel, he _deserves_ to feel every detail of this because it’s his fault _for not stopping her._

Later, he’ll recognize that there was nothing he could have done to stop her. He knows her well enough to know she felt this was her responsibility, and that it was her _destiny_ to stop Cinder. She would have hated him if he had managed to pull her away, but he could handle her hating him because at least she would be alive.

He opens his eyes from his scream and moves to stand. He has no idea how long he’s been on all fours in the middle of this street, but he needs to go. He knows he’s sitting bait for a Grimm right now, and he knows he’s not strong enough to take one on.

He’s figured out how to ride the lockers by programming locations himself (a skill he had to learn after enough tormenting from Cardin) and he inputs the shipyard in front of the school. His logic is that that’s where people would be bringing the injured, so that would be the place to find another huntsman, someone who could help.

As the locker lands, far closer to the tower than he had anticipated, he notices something strange happening with his arm. As he steps out onto the grass, he pulls his sleeve up to see his soul words starting to fizzle into the air. “No, no, no, no,” he says under his breath, using his other hand to futilely try to hold the words in his skin. The gold smoke curls around him, and he swears he recognizes the smell of it.

The recognition hits him like a truck, the pang worse than any other attack he’s faced that day. It’s Pyrrha, it’s Pyrrha, _of course it’s Pyrrha,_ it’s her scent and her favorite shampoo and the tea she drinks at the end of a long day. It’s leather and metal, the unmistakable smell of her armor and weapon, and he has to sit down to catch his breath.

So that’s what she meant.

_Pyrrha’s my soulmate?_

And then, the thought that makes his blood run cold:

_Pyrrha’s dead?_

Then there is a bright, white light, and for a second, he swears he sees more faint, gold smoke curl around his body.

And everything goes black.


End file.
